Jeepers Creepers III 'Seeds of Evil'
by Ordrossal
Summary: Its yellow eyes pivoting in their sockets as the creature passionately sniffed the windshield. The large intestines are seen being squeezed of their contents urine and waste trickle down the windshield as the struggling continues! Suddenly...
1. Protection Lucy

**Jeepers Creepers III**

**Seeds of Evil**

**(Preview)**

**By: Ordrossal**

_This is actually another odd dream I had in late 2004. I saw it from a 3rd person prospective, much like a movie. Hope it interests you... If so, I'll update immediately…_

Chapter 1

'Protection Lucy'

On an interstate highway in Arizona, a young girl by the name of Lucy and her grandmother Sheridan gracefully made their trip to Boston; cruising in a navy blue Chevy Tahoe. Lucy was about 5'2, weighing in at about 100lbs, she had attention-drawing brown eyes, brown and blond highlighted hair that went down just a few inches passed her shoulders, big breasts, shapeful legs and sharp facial features. Overall Lucy was beautiful… In high school her classmates use to call her 'Protection Lucy' because of her habit of always playing it safe. As an 8th grader she'd always carry a first aid kit, a flashlight, a pair of wire-cutters and a few condoms in her backpack. As a college student, she'd wake up 15 minutes early just to go outside and check the tier pressure on her car, the oil, air-filter, and coolant in the radiator. She'd always take it in for a tune-up 1,000miles early to ensure that it would never break down on her. The fact that her first car was a Pontiac Firebird, and Pontiac being an undependable American-made car, especially in the 80's, her judgments made sense.

But that was then, currently, she lived with her grandma, her parents were murdered on the very interstate that she was driving on. Despite that, the scenery was enjoyable, and the incident had happened so far back that she hardly remembered ether parent. "Grandma?" Lucy asked setting the cruise control and relaxing in her chair. "Yes dear?" "I've been meaning to tell you something that I feel might discourage you and it's time you should know…" Lucy said as Sheridan recoiled at a man standing at the edge of a huge overhanging rock. "We'll you don't see that everyday do ya?" The old woman said turning her attention to her granddaughter and ether of the two noticing another dark-figure diving for the man and taking both over the edge. "Mike and I, bought a lovely place in London, were planning on leaving the United States for 3years to have kids and start a new life together." Lucy said, failing to notice a struggling figure dangling from the feet of another high above the horizon.

"What made you think that would make me mad dear? You know I always wanted you to have children and marry a handsome young man." Sheridan said as a dark dithered object passed by the windshield, both women pausing at the quick break in sunlight. "That was weird…" Lucy said resuming her conversation. "Well, I though, I heard, well –you said that you were lonely after grandpa had a stroke and went into a comma, and when I came into your life, I was the only friend you hadn't outlived." Lucy said as her rearview mirror blacked-out briefly followed by a quick, fading profane holler that seamed to pass over the ceiling. After a brief silence, Sheridan replied, "Don't worry about me dear, a kind family of six moved into the old Holcomb's place across from my house, the mother is single with five wonderful toddlers, with them, I'll have company till the day I die. You go on, you go on and bring me some great grandkids girl, then you can tell me all the little adventures you had with them." Sheridan finished as something hit the roof, causing the car to swerve in zigzags. A struggle could be heard; banging, gunfire and profanity blended with an animal-like snarling sound. Suddenly a silver Colt 1911 .45cal pistol slides down the windshield becoming lodged in the windshield wipers. Following that is a loud, vivid, breaking sound mixed with blood-curdling screams and then without warning, blood creeps down both the driver and passenger windshields and a piece of large intestine smears onto the windshield.

Ether of the woman made a sound; they were both scared stiff and figured stopping the car was a very bad idea. They listened silently to the ripping sounds of toughened flesh, someone pleading while gargling and coughing, _"I'll go I'll go! Please I'll go awe!" _The large intestines are seen being squeezed of their contents; urine and waste trickle down the windshield as the struggling continues. Suddenly, a pail-colored blood-ensnared penis smears down the windshield still attached to the small intestine, Lucy now in tears and Sheridan spooked to the point of not breathing. Lucy's hands trembled on the steering wheel, making it hard to keep the SUV going in a strait line. _"This is the interstate your parents were killed on, why didn't we just take a plane?" _Sheridan whispered as distinctive chewing sounds could be heard coming from the ceiling as something ate the mere image of a man atop the roof. The chewing and breaking of flesh went on for six minutes, which was two minutes longer than Lucy could bare.

She let out a low sharp cry, the hairs on the back of her neck standing strait up when the chewing stopped and a snarling sound replaced it. Suddenly a black hand, totting long, sharp, nails hits the windshield on her side, then another on her grandma's side, then slowly, a gruesome black head slides down from the roof; its yellow eyes pivoting in their sockets as the creature passionately sniffed the windshield. Lucy froze up letting go of the steering wheel and reaching for a handgun she kept under her seat, 'just to be safe.' It was Berretta M93F automatic pistol; it was illegal to own but came in handy when faced with tough opponents or machineguns. She kept her teary eyes on the creature's metallic silver teeth; they were like dozens of thin nails sticking out of black tar. When she finally got the gun's handle in her grasp, the creature disappeared onto the roof. The Tahoe suddenly rocked dangerously side to side, Lucy having to maneuver in zigzags to avoid flipping the SUV. "He's trying to flip us give me the gun, you drive!" Sheridan shrieked as Lucy handed over the Berretta.

Suddenly the violent rocking motion stopped, and the Chevy gently swayed back and forth on its suspension struts, eventually becoming stable again. After a moment of silence Lucy let out a sigh of relief looking on and off of the entrails smearing down the windshield. Suddenly, an immense force hits the SUV, Sheridan's body shattering on the monster's as it pierces the hull like a bullet, throwing the Chevy into a mid-air barrel roll. When the car landed on its front wheel, breaking its axel and staggering to a halt, Lucy sifted through her grandmother's grounded flesh, grabbing the gun and leaving the car to run on foot. The monster struggled to free himself from the passenger door letting out metallic, blood-boiling wails that made Lucy's skin crawl as it kicked and scraped at the car's metal. Suddenly, the scraping of the car's metal ceased, and Lucy turned to find that the monster was gone… Suddenly she spots it, souring high above the trees coming strait for her. Doing the only thing she could do, Lucy took aim and fired three-round bursts from her Berretta M93F, causing the monster to stagger in the air and furthermore delay his attack. When Lucy's clip depleted, the monster dove at her, Lucy out of anger, slugging the creature right in the jaw and knocking both herself and it into individual mid-air back flips.

Getting up and clenching her now broken arm, Lucy darted to the car and grabbed a few more clips of 30 from her duffel bag. She loaded in the magazine and charged the monster head on with her pistol blaring through the afternoon. Though they seemed to bounce off the creature's tough carapace, the force still made it difficult for him to get any closer than 20ft. Suddenly in the blink of an eye the creature had its hands around Lucy's neck, the woman now reaching for another clip and kicking him in the torso. As she did so, the creature stared into her big brown eyes, unfolding a pink and atomic-purple crest that looked like a webbed hand and went around his face. The creature let out another blood-boiling wail squeezing harder and harder trying to put fear into his victim, like a chef seasoning his meat. But Lucy was not scared, not a bit, she was enraged, she wanted to kill this abomination, she wanted him to die a slow and terrible death… Slapping a clip into her Berretta, Lucy switched the gun to full-auto, putting it in the creature's mouth and holding down the trigger, squinting as blue sulfur-scented blood splattered all over her face, and the creature released its grasp.

Now staggering towards the vehicle, the monster dove into Sheridan's entrails, shoveling handfuls of the rotting meat into its mouth. Lucy, now creping up behind him with another full clip, pistol whips the creature to get its attention and sprays another 29rounds into his face then kicking him into the car, pressing the gas-cap release under the dashboard and getting clear. From about thirty yards, as the creature struggled to get its webbed leathery wings through the frame of the now broken back window, Lucy fired a 9mm parabellium bullet into the gas-cap converting the SUV to a tumbling metal-inferno when the car is overtaken by multiple explosions. As the glass settled on the asphalt, Lucy slowly moved towards the flaming wreck with her gun drawn knowing that if this creature was not killed now, it would be impossible to outrun. She moved around what appeared to be the back of the burning SUV, it was hard to tell, the Tahoe was not much more than a jagged, burning ball of oxidized metal now; when she stepped closer, she found something still struggling in the flames and backed off.

Then taking aim at what looked to be a head, she fired a three round burst recoiling from the ear-splitting wail that followed the impact. Suddenly the flaming winged humanoid darted out of the inferno hitting her body with the force of a speeding car knocking her unconscious when her diaphragm failed to operate… An unknown amount of time passed by as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She first found herself souring over the farmlands of Nebraska, then later on, looking up at the grotesque creature carrying her in its clawed feet. Then she found herself in a dungeon-like place, candles were lit and the air reeked of methane, waste, rotting flesh and hydraulic oil. She found the monster on top of her, ramming himself into her like an animal, making snarling noises and licking her face. After a few minutes, she fell unconscious and did not awake for a long time…

_Interests you, does it not? Tell me what you think… Should I post the rest of it? It plays off of the other two stories I wrote despite the title… Characters are different though…_


	2. Getting Out Of His Tomb

**"Finally, an actual chapter, not much action, but the plot will begin to unravel in this one."**

Chapter 2

'Getting Out Of His Tomb'

Lucy and her grandmother had gone missing for about six months since police found their burnt SUV. Since no bodies were found and the cops neglected to hire a crime scene investigator, the two women were pronounced dead and the case was closed… The incident aired on the news one Monday morning in Boston, Lucy and Sheridan's hometown. People took little interest in it because it happened so often on that same road, and no one seamed to want to do anything about it.

In London, Mike Sheppard, Lucy's fiancé slouched against the wall right of the front door in his apartment. His knees were hugged into his chest as he puffed on a jutting cigar, and gazed at a framed photo of his wife to be. His apartment was dark, and dreary, all of his furniture was ether black or silver, no exceptions besides the white carpet and wood-finished cabinets in the small kitchen. All appliances were ether chrome-finished or just plain stainless steel. The place needed a woman's touch.

Mike wasn't always a smoker ether, but since Lucy's abduction, he figured life wasn't all that worth living anyway. _"She probably just left me, maybe the move was too big of a step?" _Mike sighed inwardly. Suddenly, he's scared out of his endless fix upon Lucy's portrait by a rapid series of knocks at the door to his left. "Awe, what now? More greed-stricken reporters, journalists?" He thought aloud, shooting up from his crumpled position and slipping into a black sweater, and a pair of navy-blue jeans. Throwing the latch Mike drew open the front door, looking left and then glancing right, finding his good friend and half-brother Mouse, leaning against the wall with a newspaper rolled up in his hands. "Hey bro, I got some bad news about Lucy…"

Mouse said trudging between Mike and the doorframe. As Mike closed the door and leant against it, Mouse rummaged his brother's fridge for beer and began, "A news crew aired in Boston claiming that the police officials responsible for Lucy's case have pronounced her and your mother in law dead, and have therefore closed the case… They mentioned finding the jawbone of Sheridan lodged in one of the car seats, so I know 'she's' dead, but what I don't believe, is this crap about your wife." -"How so?" Mike asked trudging over to the stainless steel counter between the kitchen and the living room and leaning his weight on it.

Mouse took a huge sip of his beer before belching in reply, "EVIDENCE! -Scuse me, mm." -clearing his throat. "When the detectives dispatched to Lucy's case informed you of the incident, did they also tell you that a call-box, with a mounted closed-circuit surveillance camera was directly across from where your wife's wrecked SUV was found?" Mouse asked as Mike's ocean-blue eyes lit up with a hint of hope. "You see, I happen to know a guy, who knows a khan-artist who claims he has the 'classified' videotape containing footage of your wife's abduction, -it wasn't pretty, but it certainly opens doors for different possibilities." Mouse finished as Mike frowned in reply, "Whadoya mean 'classified?' Why is Lucy's death classified?"

Mouse trailed off, starting to recite lyrics from a Ramstein song titled Rise-Rise. "Uh Mouse?" Mike asked prodding his half-brother's shoulder with a used fork. "-Oh yeah, sorry." Mouse said taking another sip of his Bud Lite. "What I mean is that this khan-artist had to steal this tape from a vault in the sublevels of the Pentagon in D.C. The government is trying to hide something here! Your wife was in the wrong place, at the wrong time and whatever abducted Lucy is not meant for the public eye."

Mouse said belching with his mouth closed and then squinting as his eyes began to water. "-Ahem sorry." Came Mouse. " 'Whatever abducted Lucy?' " Mike asked starting to loose track of what Mouse was saying. "Oh yeah, he said the assailant wasn't human. -Called it a 'Goulash Batman Creature…' " Mouse said as a devious expression progressively replaced his typical 'loss of mind' look. "Well Mouse, I'm guessing by the devious look on your face you're hinting that I should make a trip to Washington D.C and take a look at this tape, that 'you' probably haven't even seen yet, right?" Mike asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice tone. Mouse trails off putting his feet up on the counter,

"Miss, I guarantee if you buy this 86' Porsche 911 turbo, all of your marital problems will go away… Comon? Just four easy payments of 20k and your life is on the right path." Mike dug his now wrinkled forehead into his palm calmly stating -"Mouse? You're not at 'work' anymore, you're at my house, trying to talk me into taking a trip to Washington D.C, with only the hollow words of a 'khan artist' to go by…" "-Oh, really? Oh yeah! Sorry bro." Mouse replied as Mike added, "wait a minute. You actually told a middle aged woman with marital problems that buying a 1986 Porsche 911 would heal her relationship with her husband?" Mouse shrugged in reply, "uh, it worked?" "Jesus Christ Mouse, how do I know 'you're' not a khan artist?" Mike asked getting up and griping his dark brown hair between his fists, shutting his eyes and sitting on the black patented-leather sofa affront the 40inch Plasma TV set." After hearing a belch from behind him, Mouse replies, "I am a khan artist." With that said, Mike's blue eyes shot open and he stood up, turning to Mouse.

"You're a khan artist?" He asked as Mouse put on a scornful frown and replied, "no. Where'd the hell that come from?" Mike sighed inwardly realizing what was going on and shuffling over to the counter, hanging his head below his shoulders as he leant. "Mouse? Did you forget to take you're A.D.D medication?" Mike droned, looking up at his half-brother. "Of course I'd sleep with your wife if you happened to get killed in the Army.

-Wait, no way! I hate the after taste of the stuff, the capsules get stuck in my throat." Mouse trailed off and then replied, as Mike got up and rummaged an overhead pantry. Seconds later he pulls out a vile of cyan capsules entitled 'Strattera.' "What? Wait nah! I promise I won't be stupid anymore, just don't make me take that crap, it gives me gas!" Mouse reasoned as Mike slid forward a pair of cyan capsules. "I can't take your word on that because you can't help your own stupidity, and for the record you're always gassy, now take your meds so you can finish what you were saying about my exclusive 'Washington Trip.' " Mike finished putting a sarcastic and quite cheesy smile on his face.

Mouse broke the capsules individually and dumped their day-glow-orange powdery contents on the counter, devouring the entire pile in two long snorts. "Awe fuck! I can still taste it, and it burns!" Mouse pled swaying in circles as he anchored himself to a black and chrome swiveling leather stool with his folded legs. "Now it'll get to your bloodstream faster stupid, now tell me what proof you have that this guy really has a classified tape of my wife's abduction?" Mike asked sternly as Mouse continued to sway for a couple seconds. "Well, this guy just so happened to show it to our half-sister 'Kat' first, then she came and told me." Mouse replied wiping tears from his watery eyes and then wiping his moist hand in his black leather pants.

"Kat's on embassy duty in South Korea." Mike replied blankly. Mouse sighed inwardly as he got up to stretch. "Dude, maybe if you'd turn on the news instead of hording yourself away in this tomb, you'll discover neat facts like, -'the North and South Koreans have formed diplomatic relations with each other and the United States.' See Kat has been in town on Embassy duty for over a month and a half, but you never read your voicemail."

Mouse shrugged. Suddenly there was another knock at the door, a slow, consistent one that raised the hairs on the back of Mike's neck. Mouse approached, drawing open the door and gawking in surprise. "Scott, dude, what are 'you' doing here?" Mouse asked as a blond, blue-eyed man dressed in blue jeans, leather biker boots and a black leather jacket entered the room, closing the door behind himself. "Well, I figured by the time you got 'pretty-boy' here to get off his ass and start searching for his wife she'd be mailed back to the Whitehouse in a cardboard box."

Scott replied with a strong southern U.S accent. "How did ya know I was having trouble with him?" Mouse asked as Scott unzipped his jacket and draped it over the arm of the leather sofa, exposing a teal muscle shirt. He rummaged through his jacket and pulled out videotape entitled 'Top Secret.' "Do you really think I'd buy you a 500dollar leather jacket and a 200 dollar pair a pants without buggin ya?" Scott asked yanking on a brass button on the right shoulder of Mouse's jacket and revealing a long cord bound to a mic and a small camera. "Dude you khan artist!" Mouse replied in surprise as Scott searched the room for a VCR.

After several seconds, Scott asked, "you know anybody that owns a VCR? All you've got here is a DVD player." -"No, VCR's are obsolete…" Mike said slipping into some black socks and then patented leather dress-shoes. "Where are you going?" Scott asked staring at Mike blankly. "Where goanna break into the surveillance room on the top floor and watch that tape." Mike replied, entering his bedroom and emerging with a Spas-12 automatic shotgun. (12gage) "Well what's the gun for?" Scott asked slipping into his jacket. -"Cymae, the security guard for this sector? He's an asshole, I'll probably have to kill him." Mike replied with a hint of enthusiasm. The three exit the apartment creeping into the sleek, sexy, glass n' steel corridor, discreetly brushing passed a row of doors until they came to a service elevator. Mike slipped his shotgun under his jacket just as the sliding stainless-steel doors revealed an old woman.

After the woman lagged along, finally clearing the elevator 20seconds later, and entering her apartment with a flirtatious nod, the three men stepped onboard. "I can't believe that old hag was tryin ta flirt with me." Scott commented as the lift steadily crept up the creaking shaft. "Who says she was flirting with 'you?' " Mike asked nudging Scott in the ribs and synching a smile. "I could see her nipples hardening under that shit-gray blouse of her's, -and our eyes met…" Scott bragged as Mouse moaned behind the two, "Awe, that's just fuckin sick man. She's old enough to be Bush's grandma."

-"Yeah, aint nothin like a pair a wrinkled bouncin hooters and a 70year-old clit in the mornin." Scott continued as the elevator came to a steady halt. Scott turns to find Mike smirking and Mouse sort of slipping away from reality. -"What? I'm just fuckin with ya, do I really look like the type a guy that would-," Scott paused as the stainless steel doors affront of him slid open. "Get your ass in there!" Scott said shoving Mouse into the glass n' steel corridor as the teen laughed hysterically.

The trio came up on the door at the end of the hall titled 'Security Authorized Persons Only.' "Ready?" Scott nodded as the three prepared to ram down the door. "On three… one… two… three…" Like the crack of a withered whip the three brutes tore the door off its hinges, nearly stumbling to their knees at the sensual site before them. After watching the hot Latina ravage Cymae's groin area for somewhere between 5 and 10minutes, Mike mis-intentionally fires a burst from his shotgun into the base of the guard's chair knocking him on his back. "Cymae, get a room, and shave!" Mike said scornfully grabbing the guard by his blue-collar and tossing him out the door and across the hall. As the latina hooker started to walk off, Scott steps in front of her with a cold grin saying, "You can stay..." And pushing her back in a swiveling chair affront the many TV monitors.

Mike quickly stuck the tape into a vacant VCR and gazed at the screen for several minutes. Not even half way into the tape Mike broke into tears as mixed feelings ate at him. When he starts to cry out loud, Scott shuts off the TV and makes eye contact with the greeving man asking, "Will you marry me?" Now staring blankly with his mouth agape, Mike's tears subside, Mouse and Scott burst into laughter. After a minute when only hiccups of laughter came from ether of the two men, Scott asked, "So should we let this go or dig deeper?"

Mike stood up giving ether person a cold stare replying, "Let's get my wife back..." -"Sweet, now all we need's some guns and an icecream truck." Scott said as the three started off to the elevator again. "What are we goanna do with an icecream truck?" Mike asked as Cymae cussed aloud in the background. "Screw you guys, I just want some fuggin icecream..." Scott frowing his brows together as Mike turned and fired a burst from his shotgun in Cymae's direction. _"Eh! You almost blew my foot off you pinche gringo diablo!" _The guard's voice echoed as the trio stepped into the elevator.

Before the doors could slide shut, Mike's head emerged from the doorframe, "Let's make a deal, zip up your flytrap, shave, and I won't tell you boss you picked up a hooker!" Mike finished pulling himself back into the elevator and selecting his home floor.

**"All this time and that's all I've come up with, somebody slap me! –Anyhells, the next chapter will be up in a few days be on the look out… BTW: You guys tell me if my paragraphs get too bulky, I try but what can I say, were all a little dumb sometimes. Please R&R"**


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